Hawke's Diary
by Ygrain33
Summary: Individual and disorganized entries of Catelyn Hawke's diary, originally written on sheets of water-proof vellum and hidden randomly all around Kirkwall, usually under paving stones. Originally posted at the DA wiki.
1. Chapter 1

_Just to make this clear - I don't like DA2, I mildly enjoy it at best, and only at times. As I was dropping sarcastic remarks on the DA Wiki forums, a couple of people prompted me into making it Hawke's diary. I found the idea quite appealing, since making fun of DA2 is the best part of playing, IMHO (almost as good as reading Rhia474's stories of Hawke and Fenris, which are way better than the game itself.) Hopefully, enjoy._

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><p>LIV<p>

Carver has a sweetheart! Or maybe, _had_ a sweetheart, since he doesn't seem to be inclined to answer that letter she sent. What a _pity_ it landed on _my_ desk. Brother dear pretended he wasn't interested and didn't even want to read it, so I just shrugged and hinted that it contained some juicy details. I believe this moved our sibling rivalry to totally new levels.

Speaking of sibling rivalry, I still have to wonder why and how it all started, since I'm not aware of any fault on my part – I mean, entering a barn in a most inconvenient moment doesn't count, does it? – Though, with Carver, one never knows. I'm pretty sure that were there a war to start around here, he'd certainly blame it on me.

CMLXXV

I can't even believe it! A couple of remarks here and there, and I ended up inviting Anders for the night! Good that he turned up soon, I'd have hated to leave the door open much longer, with all those weird people roaming the streets. I sometimes wonder how and where they spend their days – given the numbers I'd killed off, whole neighbourhoods must be devoid of residents.

– Anyway, Anders. Quite alright, though a bit static, so I suppose I'll keep him at home; he has those looks of a strayed kitten. However, we'll have to Talk Seriously. Soon. I must make sure that the message gets through: No More Boots On My Satin Sheets.

DCXXI

I paid a visit to the Gallows today and Fenris expressed his fear that I might be recognized as an apostate. It was so darling of him! I assured him everything would be OK, and even told him about my little trick: it's my specific running style. The way I sway my hips while running leisurely makes everyone stare enraptured, Templars included. They never notice that the said hips are encased in my stylish mage robes, not to mention that nicely polished skull that decorates the top of my staff (after all, it's placed in a safe distance from the hips so as not distract). Quite a couple of people have already asked how I do it, since they do not seem able to grasp the knack of running and swaying at the same time, but I'll never tell my secret to anyone (and I'll never tell them that I occasionally dislocate my hip because of that, either).

MCCCIII

What was that Fenris _thinking_? That oaf virtually pushed me into duelling the Arishok! Apparently, a mage of my slender stature is considered an appropriate opponent for a guy almost twice as tall and five times as muscular. Casting requires some time and _distance_, you know? Not that I've never been chased by a male with horny looks before, but certainly not before an audience. And none of the guys had such formidable impaling equipment, either.

Oh, now I've seen through it: you did it out of jealousy because I dumped you. – Alright, _you_ dumped _me_, but I would have, anyway, since you refused to show me your tattoos. You conceited hypocrite! You show off in front of other women what you can do with their hearts, and you play shy against my wall. Tss. Anders at least knows what _bed_ is for.

CCCXIV

The homecoming being disgustingly rich didn't quite turn out the way I expected. Apparently, my absence affected Carver's mental state even more than my presence: the fool decided to join the Templars! I didn't fail to point out that an apostate sister might be a sort of a hindrance for this kind of career, but he took it as an offence. 'Don't I think him able to shut up in family matters?' – Well, I don't. What could he possibly answer to "And tell me, Sir Carver: in those more than eighteen years together, you never noticed that your sister was an apostate?" and not look a _complete_ idiot?

Besides, Mother took it really badly: as if he died or was gone for good, and not just moved a couple of blocks away where she can visit him almost daily.


	2. Chapter 2

LXXIX

I had the pleasure of meeting Knight Captain Cullen today. At first, I was quite thrilled to see that Templars do not restrict their abuse to mages; seeing a Templar abusing another was definitely refreshing. Unfortunately, the other Templar turned out to be an abomination, which sort of spoiled the fun. I was really glad to have Anders along, since two mages against two Templars, albeit consecutively, stand a better chance, but our dear Captain was so absorbed in his own hacking and slashing that he never noticed the two of us casting for our very lives like mad. Must be the lyrium, I suppose. – But I must admit that Cullen is quite charming, for a Templar, and he's definitely a gentleman, since he never asked why a woman of my age needs a walking stick as tall as herself and looks somewhat more charred than at the beginning of our conversation.

XXVII

Today we met Uncle Gamlen for the first time. To say that I was rather unimpressed is quite an understatement. The man hasn't washed in weeks, and his clothes… I must admit I was somewhat at a loss, as I clearly recall more than just a couple of occasions when Mother claimed that Amells were nobility. Either Gamlen didn't get the same speech, or it may be that in other parts of the world, nobility has another meaning.

Anyway. I was quite shocked that he had the gall to comment on Mother's appearance! _Mother's_! Seriously, _I_ don't dare to wear such neckline as she does – though I must admit her anti-wrinkles lotion works better than magic. I hope that she will share the recipe one day.

XXXIII

Uncle Gamlen is broke! Wow, what a surprise. No money, no mansion, no nothing – just plenty of liquor on his breath. So much for a happy family reunion and a cosy living in Kirkwall. For some reason, though, Mother still thinks it's worth trying to get in. Well, I could certainly come up with a dozen places where an apostate like me would be better off, and probably even wouldn't have to sell my services to pay back the debt.

As could have been expected, Carver seems rather thrilled by the idea; after all, his musculature will come to good use like this. But, oh my: does the boy show an unhealthy fascination with the four-letter words our future employer uses so frequently. It's so much Carver, being impressed by _that_ and totally ignoring that we were just sent to commit a murder to get the job. Amazing what some males imagine as means of showing off their masculinity. – Or, maybe it's just Carver.

LXXII

Finally back from the hiking trip. My feet are just aching but I had to make a detour to the Alienage before I could finally rest. I brought there that Merry-something person and left as quickly as I could, thought she invited me for tea and cakes and a little chat. Mother is right, we do need to move away from the Lowtown, I sure don't want to live in the same neighbourhood when miss I-know-what-I'm-doing starts doing it with demons.

MMMXII

Today I made a shocking discovery: Fenris is a fetishist! I found him wearing a red band round his wrist, which I immediately recognized as the band from my nightie I was wearing when our little misadventure happened. I am more than glad now that it ended so fast, I can't stand freaks.

Now that I think of it: there have been quite a couple of my unmentionables which I sent for laundering and never saw them again. I always suspected Isabela but now I believe I know the real culprit.


	3. Chapter 3

MMMCXXI

I took the boys for a walk today – there's certainly nothing better you can do in the company of three attractive men – and I couldn't believe my ears when I heard Sebastian and Fenris discussing quite openly whether to turn Anders in or not. I hope they were just jesting! How about turning _me_ in next time, huh? I mean, everyone knows by now, anyway, but making this official would be really awkward. Can you imagine the public outcry if it was acknowledged that the Champion of Kirkwall is actually a mage? Whereas, if we keep quiet, we may all pretend that I simply chased the Arishok down.

Anyway, were this a joke or not, there will have to be some repercussions. Fenris is an easy pick, he is so predictable when it comes to mages, and the opportunity will soon present itself. As for Sebastian, I'll have to think really hard. If only I could piss him so much that he would turn and leave back for Starkhaven, _that_ would be something!

MXI

I don't want to see or smell anything Qunari for at least a week. Being able to produce green stinking gas and store it in barrels is definitely bad manners, and letting anyone copy the process is unforgivable. The whole neighbourhood must be stinking even now. I must talk to the Viscount to make sure the Qunari enclave is not supplied with beans any more.

Also, I must talk to Aveline. Keeping a district closed when there occurs a leak is a sensible idea as long as you don't let people in, but what about letting out those who got trapped there? – Just saying, you know. Though, I do not complain about all those mercenaries staying in– they conveniently kept turning up only after I closed one of those damned barrels, and by the time I was done with the second one, the layer of bodies was thick enough for us to keep our heads above the stench.

MXIII

I think I messed something a little bit. As I went to call on Aveline, I forgot to knock. Er, most awkward. – But at least now I know why the woman wanted to join the guard so badly: when you're a guardsman, no-one ever wonders why keep carrying bonds with you.

CCCLXIV - CDLXXXIX)

/Catelyn Hawke makes notes from the ongoing discussions with her mother, concerning furnishing the re-acquired Amell mansion with carpets, rugs, tapestries, curtains, candlesticks, chandeliers, cupboards, wardrobes, chests, dressers, shelves, benches, chairs, armchairs, tables, bedtables, sofas, tabourets, paravanes, mirrors, paintings, carvings, statues, inlays, mosaics, bowls, platters, quilts, tablecloths, bedspreads and just about anything that makes a place feel unique and cosy. Mysteriously, all the purchased items end up in Leandra's room, which Hawke never visits, and the rest of the mansion remains almost empty./

MCMLXV

I'm somewhat baffled. It's not so bad having Anders around, provided one does not mind listening to an anti-templar rant at least twice during mealtime, but the man has his peculiarities. We share a house, share a bed, we are as intimate as two adult people can be, but when he wants to talk privately, it has to be at his clinic! I _hate_ Darktown, with its non-functional sewage system and people constantly wiping their feet of, er, you know what.

– Anyway, the talk with Anders ended up as disappointingly as all the previous ones when I was hoping for something so _private_ that he wouldn't want the servants anywhere around, but… nope, nothing at all.


	4. Chapter 4

IM

Well, I can certainly understand that people need to gossip, but Isabela's obsession with the way Justice does or does not manifest himself during the intercourse is a little unhealthy. I keep telling her that there is nothing to tell, but it only seems to fuel her curiosity. I should probably make something up to shut her mouth – though, on a second thought this is not the brightest idea, as it might give her _thoughts_. She probably wouldn't take well losing her status of one who has bedded every beddable species of Thedas, and I won't be taking any risks. I've already seen Anders out of control, and I don't want to provide any other special opportunity.

CLXII

It seems that my estimate of people is not as good as I thought. Take Varric – I always thought he was the brightest of the lot, so when we met that repulsive Karras type, I confidently let him talk us out of it, as usually. Meh. Must have been a fatal dice roll or something on the board of Fate, since he couldn't come up with a better cover-up than saying blatantly that I was a Fereldan mage sent by Meredith herself to help the Templars clean their own mess. Ser Thrask, of course, kept changing shades from pale to purple but he did confirm the flop, so now we're all just waiting for Karras to come home and go "Yes, Ma'am, it all went very well, that Hawke mage you sent was a great help" – "WTF are you talking about?" Sympathetic to the mages as Thrask may be, I doubt he would take any pains to cover me, especially if it may be meant literally. I guess I'd better tell Mother dear that we should pack our garbs real quick and move house – not to another district but another continent.

MMMCCCXXXIV

Today's discovery: diagnosis confirmed. Fenris _is_ a freak. Or an idiot. Or both. Now, if one goes I-hate-mages-bwahaha all the time, wouldn't it be at least a bit logical not to hang around one all the time? I mean, he _is_ quite useful with a sword, but I was no way convincing him to stay. I wasn't even _nice_ to him – alright, alright, I do admit the flirting part but we all know the way it went. – By the way, wouldn't you think I was the last person on Thedas he would like to bed? No. Or, what every sensible being would do, i.e. bang the door and sod off? No. Instead, he comes and debates with me his purpose in life. – Definitely a masochist, or an idiot, or both.

CCXXII

Remember: be extremely careful with words around the Qunari: they don't mind seeing a staff or the tale-telling robes, but if you tell them right away that you are a mage, they go nuts. Never, ever tell the Qunari that someone is a mage unless you are ready for a fight. – And if you are, feel free to go ahead… the Qunari idea of treating mages makes Templars almost endearing. Neither can be reasoned with but the Templars are somewhat more to my tastes.

MXXXI

I stopped for a little chat with Sebastian. For the very life of me, I can't understand why a man of his kind makes vows of chastity. I just made a remark or two, batted my lashes a bit, and he quickly made his apologies and dashed off, mumbling something rather incoherent, featuring prayers and cold baths. I _love_ being mean!


	5. Chapter 5

DCCCXIX

It was a really long day, or rather a couple of days, helping Aveline to make her way to a man's heart without using her sword. I must admit that her attempts were definitely innovative, though I'd much prefer that the object of her passion did not end up thinking that I was 1) a collector of brass trinkets 2) meddling with duty rosters 3) the one actually having hots for him. If the woman screws even that walk along the coast and does not screw Donnic, I'll let her go through with that plan with goats. I do deserve some fun after my vain efforts, don't I?

DCCCXX

As expected, Aveline did screw the screwing. A nice, quiet patrol along the coast, just the two of them, while certain Serah Hawke disposed of all potential disturbances, like a bunch of bandits here and there, rabid mabaris, and even thistles in convenient patches of grass. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing, except that guardsman Donnic was not really interested in swordmaking or whatever inane topics Aveline chose to arouse his passion. Little wonder that after those intellectual mind-provoking debates, the guy figured out that something was not-quite-so-so when they encountered the good old me. – Er, it also may have been Varric's doing, since he did get almost graphic with his comment about "where she wants to touch you". Anyway, Donnic left saying something about a private talk with his captain, and I hope this finally means what I think it does.

DCCCXXIX

Ah yes… not the romantic quizzical gifts, not the romantic walk in the moonlight… The easiest way to a man's heart is through another organ, and I don't mean stomach here. I hope that Aveline realizes how much time I wasted on something that could have been handled with a single sentence. – Just, why does she insist that I knock from now on? Like, does she think I might see something I haven't seen yet?

DCCXXXIV

Did the guy really propose what I think he did – the Arishok, I mean? The way he was looking at me when talking about _sin_ in this city and what I thought about it – why, nothing, dear sir, you have too many horns and claws for my liking.

MCCCLX

Huh? The High Cleric has been talking to Carver recently? "you helped to fan the controversy", what's that supposed to mean? Like, I was instigating Meredith and Orsino against each other, as if they needed a helping hand in this? Why's everyone blaming _me_ again? Carverism all and through. Blast you, Elthinna!


	6. Chapter 6

_Warning: You are highly advised not to consume any drinks while reading. Catelyn Hawke takes no responsibility for casualties._

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><p>MMCMLXXXVI<p>

D'oh. Really, a way to go. First, Orsino and Meredith decide to wash their dirty linen in public and make me their referee, then the High Cleric comes up and calls Meredith "good girl" in front of half Kirkwall. Really, Elthinna, if there ever was a chance to talk some sense into Meredith, you have just blown it. Please, don't wonder why the situation is so explosive these days.

– Oh, and Meredith: don't you _dare_ to use my mother as an argument ever again… alright, do: you're dead after this first time, anyway. Don't think I won't have the guts to go against you, you'd be petrified to find out what I am capable of.

Huh. I just hope Orsino stays sensible; having to kill _both_ them idiots would spoil my day.

MCCIC

Sure, Carver. Go on, blame it all on me again. Not the Qunari, not Isabela, not the incapable Viscount – the only person to blame for the Qunari invasion is Catelyn Hawke. Really, didn't you join the Templars to solve your sibling rivalry problem and shine on your own? – Let me guess: _I_ am to blame again that you have run out of mail polish.

CCLVII

I had a strange encounter at the Hanged Man – I mean, stranger than usually. Now, if you're a female and walk into a tavern in Lowtown, you have to be ready to deal with trouble. If you're a female wearing something that looks like a wetdream fancy of clothing, you're asking for trouble anywhere, not just Lowtown and the Hanged Man. So, if you are the said female wearing the said attire, why do you toss around pieces of advice how one should be careful? Do you also sit with your bare ass on the hot stove and then tell people not to? No-one will ever convince me that this Isabela does not _want_ trouble.

CLXXXVII

Heh, something I'd call a serious case of public embarrassment: the Viscount's son hangs out with the Qunari. I am surely an embodiment of understanding for people's little depravities, but the boy's taste for being dominated has surely gone a little too far. No wonder the Viscount has lost his hair over it.

MMMCCCLXXIII

So, let me check:

_Redwater Teeth_

_Sharps Highwaymen_

_Undercuts_

_Doglords_

_Invisible Sisters_

_Reining Men_

_Followers of She_

_Crimson Weavers_

This city is really weird. Normally, one would say that the hobby of preference after nightfall is sex. In Kirkwall, though, people prefer to stalk the streets in gangs with funny names and jump down six meters tall buildings. _Not_ funny in the least. I'm really, really considering moving elsewhere.


	7. Chapter 7

DCCXL

What's _wrong_ with all them Qunari? Kind of tight-arsed, of late. With the absence of women in their enclave, little wonder. I have no idea what the teachings of the Qun say about sex but I'd be rather surprised if there wasn't a list of allowed positions, partners and paraphernalia – the Qunari do like to be bossed around in every detail. I asked Fenris as the only expert around but he turned red and mumbled something about nuzzling and hot iron pries, and refused to go into details. I pondered sending Isabela to find out, as it seemed to be a kind of mission she would love to accomplish, but she refused, as well. What's wrong with _you_, people? I run every possible errand for you, and you are not willing to do something for me in turn?

MCCLXXX

The bitch Isabela! She _knew_ all along the Qunari ways and yet she didn't tell me! Even worse, she snatched that manual the Arishok wanted so badly and ran for good! What am I supposed to do now? There are a few dozens sexually starved Qunari who have just lost their only hope to relieve themselves according to the Qun. If they run amok, I refuse to take responsibility.

CLXCVI

Even if I didn't know better myself, today I've seen yet another compelling reason why one shouldn't consort with demons. Turning Templar novices into abominations is definitely a sign of sick mind and I can't imagine how it was supposed to work in the long run, what with the abominations' tendency to be rather touchy when it comes to the physical harm of their earthly shell, but reason is not a feature blood mages are notable for, anyway. However, that horrible complexion must have been a result of some demonic contact (and I sure didn't know that demons could spread chancre), and if this still isn't enough, imagine the ugliest lipstick you have ever seen and multiply it by ten. Being a crazy abomination _and_ wearing white lipstick is not just an offence to the Maker but to good taste, as well.

XXII

Strange city, strange habits, strange travelling partners… Now, don't get me wrong: I have no – alright, almost – objections towards Aveline. I can certainly understand that she is _not_ pleased with that mercy blow to her husband – but telling me that she was pissed only weeks later, after we land? The woman does have a communication problem.

CC

Still can't get out of my mind the encounter with the Templar – abominators. Except for that nice hood I'm wearing (c'mon, one can't be picky when short of coin, and I sure didn't tell mother why I insisted on double thorough washing), there was yet another cherry to it: seeing a Templar in his unmentionables, which certainly is a sight few mages lived to tell the tale about. I must say I was rather intrigued – oh, yes, broad shoulders, finely muscled, simply the stuff one would expect in a guy trained for heavy armour. What I didn't know, though, was that the underwear was a part of the uniform, too. I keep wondering what that tiny Sword of Mercy embroidered down _there_ is supposed to signify?


End file.
